


Little Red Riding Hood

by JET_Playin



Series: Drarry Tales [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fairy Tale Elements, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Marriage, Post-Hogwarts, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JET_Playin/pseuds/JET_Playin
Summary: Harry is in danger this time, but who will rescue him?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarry Tales [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653493
Comments: 12
Kudos: 89





	Little Red Riding Hood

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Triggerlil, for all you do! ❤️
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> I don't own Harry Potter or affiliated characters and locations

"Draco," Narcissa smiled, drawing out the syllables of his name. "Oh, darling, I'm so happy to see you."

"Hello Mother," Draco greeted, leaning down to press a kiss to her delicate cheekbone. "Thank you so much for taking over. It was quite a shock to find our wedding planner was plotting as he was."

"Yes, yes, nasty business. I don't know what's come over the world, but we'll take care of everything. Now, where's Harry? Shouldn't he be here for this?" 

"Yes, he's just been called away. He's promised to make it here as soon as he possibly can."

"And the gentleman standing in the corridor?" 

"Ah, yes. He's been assigned to protect me as there are still a few suspects at large."

"Very well," she sighed. "I don't suppose he'd care for a spot of tea?" 

"Never mind him, Mother. We have work to do."

"Yes, of course. Tell me everything you've planned thus far."

-

Standing at the end of Privet Drive, Harry stared down the lane, his red Auror's robes flapping in the wind, hesitant to take his first steps back toward his old life. It wasn't the first time he'd visited Aunt Petunia since the war, but every time they met it was on neutral ground, a café or restaurant where they would chat inanely, avoiding any triggering memories or topics on both sides. 

This was good, though, Harry reminded himself. When Petunia had called, he wasn't sure what to expect, but he was looking forward to the chance to tell her the news of his upcoming wedding. So he took that first step, and the next, until his feet carried him to the walk of number four. 

The curtains were drawn, the house silent, as was to be expected. How else would she be able to spy on the neighbors unobserved? Chuckling to himself, Harry jogged up the drive and rapped briskly on the door. 

He only had to wait a moment before the door was cracked open and one frightened eye peeked out. 

"Harry?" Petunia asked, then widened the crack a bit. "Oh, thank goodness you're here, I—" 

But she was cut off by a large hand closing over her mouth and dragging her away. Harry whipped out his wand in an instant, kicking the door the rest of the way open, and hurried into the house. Training kicking in, he glanced around each room as he passed it, looking for any sign of danger. He found none, though, and followed them through to the living room where the man was standing over the chair he'd secured Petunia to with magical ropes. 

He could see her clearly now, the frazzled state of her hair, the bruise blooming high on one cheekbone, the smeared make-up. And, standing above her, a wicked gleam in his eyes and a leering smirk on his lips, was Fenrir Greyback. 

“Greyback,” Harry said, somewhat redundantly, levelling his wand at the werewolf’s chest. “What are you doing here?”

Greyback had been on the run for eight years, since the end of the war, with barely a whisper of his whereabouts in all that time. Petunia whimpered, drawing Harry’s attention momentarily, but it was long enough. 

“Expelliarmus!” a cold voice rang out from the shadows of the darkened room, and Harry twisted as his wand flew from his fingers and into the outstretched hand of one Lucius Malfoy, stepping into the dim light filtering through Petunia’s lacy curtains. “Mr Potter,” he sneered. “How kind of you to join us…” 

-

At the Ministry of Magic, deep in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, an alarm sounded, filling the office of Anthony Goldstein as he shuffled through paperwork. It was an alarm that sounded once every few days or so, but this time Anthony’s head jerked up in surprise. Usually, when the alarm sounded, Harry Potter was out in the field, surrounded by Aurors and perfectly safe, but Anthony knew Harry’s schedule as well as he knew his own. He was meant to be at Malfoy Manor, planning his wedding. There shouldn’t be any danger.

Checking his wand, he frowned. Little Whinging? What was Harry doing in Little Whinging?

Abandoning his paperwork, he rose, throwing his robes over his shoulders, and strode from the office. He didn’t bother telling anyone where he was going, that would only raise unwanted questions. Nothing like an illegal trace on the savior of the wizarding world to bring an abrupt end to his career. 

In Little Whinging, he followed the trace to Privet Drive and the little house with darkened windows. The door was ajar, so he readied his wand, whispering " _ finite _ " to end the tracking spell. 

There were voices coming from the end of the entrance hall, two men arguing. 

"Aren't we going to kill him, Malfoy? Isn't that why you dragged me out here?" one growled, and Anthony perked up. Malfoy was behind this! He should have known. 

"I don't want to kill him, you fool. I want him to understand what will happen if he doesn't end this foolishness with my son."

Creeping into the living room, wand pointed straight ahead of him, Anthony announced his presence with a flourish. "Alright, nobody move!" He'd always wanted to say that. 

While every eye locked onto him, he took a moment to survey the situation. Harry was stood, disarmed, in the center of the room beside a chair with a battered woman tied to it. Behind him was a large man who looked vaguely familiar, and to the right of him, Lucius Malfoy had his wand aimed at Harry. 

"Goldstein, what are you doing here?" Harry demanded, and it hurt a bit to see the look of annoyance on his face. 

"Alright there, Harry?" he asked anyway. 

"This matter doesn't concern you, boy," Lucius sneered. He turned his wand on Anthony, who instantly cast a preemptive  _ Potego.  _ " _ Avada _ —" 

"No!" Harry shouted, rushing him and knocking him off balance. They toppled to the floor, wrestling for Malfoy’s wand while Anthony kept his trained on the muscle in the back. Straddling him, Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment, then pulled his fist back and brought it crashing down on Malfoy’s jaw. "Sorry, Draco," he muttered. "He had it coming."

"Harry, what about this guy?" 

"That  _ guy _ is Fenrir Greyback, take him into custody." As he staggered to his feet, Harry shot an incarcerous at Malfoy, then straightened and approached the chair to untie his aunt. "Aunt Petunia, are you alright?" 

Goldstein shot an incarcerous at Greyback, ignoring his angry growl, and moved to help Harry. 

"Come along," Harry said, helping Aunt Petunia to stand. "I'll take you to the hospital."

"Don't be ridiculous, boy. The hospital, on a Friday?" she scolded. "I'd be there all day, and for what? A couple of bruises? No."

"What about St. Mungo's?" Goldstein suggested.

Harry cringed and Petunia scowled. "What's a St. Mungo?" she asked, eyeing Harry shrewdly. 

"It's a wizarding hospital," he explained. "I know, I know—"

"I don't want to do that, Harry," she snapped. "You know how I feel about—" 

"I know. But someone should look you over." 

"I'm fine. The big one slapped me and pulled my hair, but that's it. I'll be fine."

"At least let me heal you?" he implored. He felt responsible for her injuries, after all, and was perfectly capable of healing them. "What will you tell Uncle Vernon?" 

She seemed to think very hard about that before nodding curtly. "Fine, do it. But don't you dare tell Vernon anything about this."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

-

"You what?" Draco demanded, dropping his fork to stare at Harry. "How could you arrest my father?" 

"He was in the middle of casting the killing curse at an Auror," Harry sighed. "And he summoned Greyback to come and scare me out of marrying you. I'm sorry, I didn't have a choice."

Draco sighed, a long, world-weary sound. "I suppose, but what will I tell Mother? You missed our meeting because you were too busy arresting her husband?" 

"Or, you could let the Aurors tell her, since it is their job, and be done with it."

I suppose I could do." Lifting his fork, he took a bite of his chicken. "I don't suppose he'll be released in time for the wedding?" 

"Probably not, love, I'm sorry."

"No you aren't; you never wanted him at the wedding," Draco pouted. 

Harry slid a hand across the table to close it over his. "But you did, so I'm sorry."

Draco smiled weakly, but nodded. "Alright. Thank you."

"So, how's this week's bodyguard?" 

"He's better than last week's," Draco admitted. "Though I'm not sure he'll last. At least he doesn't complain about running around chasing cursed objects."

"Which one was that? The second?" 

"The fourth," Draco corrected. 

"Jesus, you go through them so quickly. Maybe they should just let me do it."

"No, no, Harry. I want to marry you; why would you want to spoil that by bringing your incompetence to light?" 

Harry snorted. "Alright, fair enough."

"Besides, I've already contacted Robards about the next one. He'll start at the beginning of the week."

"Good."

They changed the topic, then, discussing wedding plans instead. There was still so much to do. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ❤️


End file.
